


The Dog Days of Winter

by stardropdream



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Dogs, First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M, Wingman Atlas (Voltron), Wingman Black Lion (Voltron), Wingman Kosmo (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:27:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21924400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardropdream/pseuds/stardropdream
Summary: Keith and Shiro have been friends for a few months now, spending nearly every day walking their dogs together. Keith's content with their friendship considering Shiro is the first human he's been able to talk to easily.Too bad his nosy dog decides to help Keith with his feelings. It'd be easy enough to ignore if Keith weren't an animal empath, able to hear all of Kosmo's excellent advice and see right through all his wingman ploys.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 88
Kudos: 425





	The Dog Days of Winter

**Author's Note:**

> I received a request for a dogwalking AU way back in May... sob, sorry for the long delay. But, I decided to make it a bit holiday-themed, and feature some various animals wingmaning Shiro and Keith. 
> 
> Thank you to [Meg](https://twitter.com/kedawen) for reading this over for me!

Keith wakes to Kosmo poking his snout into Keith’s side and telling him to wake up. 

“Noooo,” Keith groans and tries to roll away from his dog’s insistent needling, burrowing himself under his blankets. It does little to dissuade Kosmo from poking him in the side. “I didn’t turn on my alarm for a reason!” 

Kosmo gives a light huff, a deep, judgmental sigh that hits Keith right to his core. There’s something truly depressing about your dog judging you, after all. With another groan, Keith shoves the blankets off from over his face to give his dog a withering glare. 

“You _promised_ you’d let me sleep in,” Keith tells him.

Kosmo noses at Keith’s alarm clock. It’s five minutes past when his alarm would normally go off if Keith had turned it on. But Keith distinctly did _not_ turn it on. Kosmo does have a point, though: technically, five minutes past is still sleeping in.

“You know that’s not what I meant, asshole,” Keith mutters. “Why do you want me to get up anyway?” 

Kosmo nudges into Keith’s side again. He apparently seems determined to insist on a morning walk. 

It’s still dark out. Keith _hates_ winter for that fact but especially whenever he has to take his stupid, mean dog out for a stupid morning walk just because, despite all Keith’s best efforts, the jerk won’t actually go use the bathroom on his own. Keith _knows_ that Kosmo could figure out the front door if he really wanted. 

His one solace is that Keith knows that Kosmo feel undignified whenever he has to use the bathroom and Keith’s just standing right there as he poops. But then again, Keith’s also the one who has to pick it up for him, so who’s the truly undignified one in this situation? 

Muttering dark curses, Keith drags himself out of bed. He shoves on some socks and pulls his boots on over his fleecy pajama bottoms. It doesn’t matter. Keith doesn’t plan on a big walk for Kosmo— just the front yard to shit and then maybe Keith can drag himself back inside for a few more hours of sleep. He doesn’t need to wear jeans for that, so the penguin design it is. He shrugs into a few extra layers on top before pulling on his coat and clipping the leash to Kosmo’s collar. 

“Jerk,” Keith calls him again as he opens the front door and is blasted by the chill of an early December day. Keith truly, fundamentally will never understand how anyone can find any cheer in the holiday season when two seconds is enough to make his ears feel like they’re going to fall off. 

Kosmo doesn’t even have the decency to listen to Keith’s grinchy mutterings. He wags his tail once, his attention directed away from Keith. When Keith turns his head to see what’s captured Kosmo’s attention, he spots Shiro walking down the sidewalk. 

And Shiro looks just as surprised to see Keith, too. He pauses mid-step and then grins in recognition. He waves, puffs of misty air clouding around him. 

“Good morning, Keith!” Shiro calls. “You’re up early!” 

Beside Shiro, Atlas yaps a hello to Keith, too, weaving around Shiro’s legs and tangling him up in her leash. Sitting by one of the straggly trees lining the sidewalk is Shiro’s massive Maine Coon, Black, on her soft leash and sniffing delicately at some fallen leaves. She glances over at Keith as he walks down the steps with Kosmo, which is as close to a hello as she tends to give sometimes— she’s also not much of a morning person. 

Keith feels his cheeks warm as he approaches Shiro and deeply, deeply regrets wearing his fleecy penguin pajamas instead of something more understated or sexy. Kosmo is smug beside him— so clearly not only did his dog want to wake him up, he wanted to make sure Keith looked like an idiot in front of his crush. 

Meanwhile, Shiro looks like he just walked out of some aesthetic Instagram post, big wool sweater beneath his coat, a cute hat with a fluffy bauble at the top, and a massive scarf looped around his neck. He looks cozy and warm and like the perfect Christmas card come to life. 

Keith kind of wants to lick his face, but Keith also can acknowledge that that’s a weird thing to want. 

Keith hopes he can blame the stupid December chill for his red cheeks. He’s always felt like he’s completely obvious when it comes to his massive crush on his friend and the only reason he’s had to have an awkward conversation about it is because Shiro’s too kind to bring it up. 

Keith knew he was doomed the first day he met Shiro— a few months ago when he’d just moved into town, settling into his new neighborhood. He took Kosmo on a walk only for Kosmo to go bounding away after an asshole squirrel who insulted Keith’s haircut. That was back before Keith started running with Kosmo in the afternoons; he was out of shape, easily winded, and knew he had no hope of catching his massive wolf-dog when he was barking after a squirrel. 

Which is where Shiro came in, seeming to duck out of nowhere to catch Kosmo by his collar for Keith, fueled on by some need to be a Good Samaritan— and ended up with a massive armload of dog instead. Keith would have been impressed by anybody who could actually, literally hold his dog in his arms and make it look _easy_ — but then the guy had to go and also be fucking gorgeous. As it turns out, Shiro is used to huge dogs: Atlas is by far the biggest dog, purebred or mutt, that Keith’s ever seen in his damn life. 

Since that day (Shiro, kindly depositing Kosmo back into Keith’s arms with a, “He’s cute!” and Keith fumbling his way through both apology and thankfulness), Shiro and Keith walk their dogs together. Over the last few months, they’ve walked their dogs together nearly every day. It’s true they haven’t hung out much beyond that, but Keith kind of likes it— he is, after all, a dog person.

Keith slumps the rest of the way to Shiro’s side and pitches forward, headbutting his forehead against Shiro’s shoulder. It’s not quite a hug, but Shiro takes it as such, curling both arms around Keith and squeezing him tight in greeting. It shouldn’t make Keith blush more, but of course it does. 

“Morning, Shiro,” Keith mutters, pulling back. 

“I don’t usually see you in the morning,” Shiro says with a grin. 

“Kosmo didn’t let me sleep in.” It’s true that he usually joins Shiro in the afternoon to walk Kosmo and Atlas together. Atlas demands many walks with all her energy and usually Shiro’s already come and gone with Atlas and Black by the time Keith wakes up in the morning. 

“Good timing now, though,” Shiro says. “We started a bit late, but we were heading towards the dog park, weren’t we, everyone?” Shiro tilts his head. “Want to join?”

Atlas and Black don’t respond, but Keith knows they’re listening. 

“Might as well,” Keith says, chest feeling all squirmy. 

Keith tugs on Kosmo’s leash and he trots up to fall into place beside Atlas as Keith slots into the spot next to Shiro. It’s their usual configuration despite the hour, and together they make their way down the sidewalk. 

It’s early enough in the morning that there aren’t too many other people out yet; there are some commuters heading to work, others defrosting their cars, and a few people walking dogs. But otherwise, it’s peaceful and perfectly people-less, just the way Keith likes it. 

The sky turns a little ashen as the sun starts to rise on the other side of the trees. Keith spends the walk mostly in silence— he always appreciates that about Shiro, how sometimes they can talk and talk and talk and never grow tired of it, and other times he respects Keith’s tendency to just get really quiet. 

The truth is, Keith has no idea how to really talk to humans or befriend humans. Shiro is, quite literally, his first true (human) friend. 

But Shiro, despite being devastatingly handsome and, unfortunately, a human, always seems easy to talk to. He always sets Keith at ease, always makes Keith feel welcome and like he’s being listened to. 

Shiro, in turn, seems to genuinely like Keith’s company. He told Keith once that it was because Keith never gave him shit for walking his cat on a leash. _It just makes me sad to see neighborhood cats just roaming around outside all the time,_ he admitted to Keith once. 

Keith just thinks Shiro’s cute. 

“I’m so fucking tired,” Keith mutters. “Why’s it so cold?” 

“It’s actually pretty warm for the morning,” Shiro tells him pleasantly. “But you usually miss it.” 

Keith grumbles. “I was supposed to sleep in. Kosmo had other plans.” 

Shiro nods. “I’ve given up on sleeping in ever since getting Atlas. I keep thinking she might chill once she’s not a puppy, but, so far… not happening.” 

Keith chuckles, some of his dark mood lightening. He remembers when Kosmo was small enough to fit in Keith’s hands and how yappy and obnoxiously cute he’d been. He’s still cute, even though he’s big enough now that he could carry Keith easily, and he’s certainly learned the best ways now to manipulate Keith. Keith can sympathize with Shiro’s dashed hopes for a calmer adult Atlas. 

Kosmo peeks at Keith over his shoulder as they walk and makes a little huff. His expression is thoroughly triumphant as he watches Keith and Shiro discuss. 

Keith could really do without Kosmo looking so smug. Keith _hates_ when his dog starts lecturing him on Keith’s fumbling attempts at friendship. 

(Kosmo’s gotten it into his head to help Keith ever since, after the fifth time he walked dogs with Shiro, Keith watched Shiro retreat into his house (two doors down from Keith) and Keith had sighed wistfully and whispered, “Wow… He really is— wow.” 

There hadn’t been anything interesting about that particular dogwalk. Just Shiro smiling at him, unreasonably handsome, and plucking a stray fallen leaf from Keith’s hair for him, twirling it in his fingers like a prize. Everything Shiro does is casually devastating; it’s not Keith’s fault he’s so smitten.

The point is, Keith had sighed wistfully near Kosmo in complete confidence. He didn’t expect his dog to try to wingman him ever since.)

_Tell him,_ Kosmo broadcasts at him now, which is stupid because clearly Kosmo does not understand human subtlety or romantic ambiance if he thinks that just blurting _hey, I really like you_ at six in the morning on a random side-street, walking three animals, is somehow the perfect opportunity to confess to one’s crush. Keith has enough social grace to know Kosmo doesn’t know fuck-all about romance. 

Kosmo apparently hates Keith’s stoic refusal to answer him— it’s not like Keith’s going to start talking back right in front of Shiro— because suddenly he jerks forward, lurching on his leash, and cuts back, stretching the leash taut over Keith’s legs and tripping him up. 

It’s well-timed, too; the ground is slick and icy and Keith wobbles with a shout of surprise, his knee giving a little tweak as he nearly topples over. He manages to right himself with help from Shiro’s hand catching his elbow.

But then Kosmo zooms away, jerking hard on the leash so it rips out of Keith’s hand and sends him off his equilibrium. Keith hits Shiro hard and, together, they both go down. Thankfully Shiro angles them to hit the patch of grass next to the sidewalk rather than the hard concrete itself. 

Atlas trots after Kosmo, leash rattling behind her, yipping and excited to go play.

Keith groans, body all tangled up with Shiro’s. “Kosmo!” he shouts after his saboteur dog. “What the _fuck_?” 

Keith should have been on guard. Kosmo’s been trying to tangle Shiro and Keith up for weeks now. This isn’t a goddamn Disney dog movie. Keith blames his sleepy brain for his lack of constant vigilance.

Keith swivels his head back towards Shiro. “Fuck, are you okay?” 

Shiro groans, sitting up and rubbing his head where he bumped it hard on the ground, knocking his hat askew. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Shiro tells him. “No harm done.” He landed hard on his arm, but he waves the prosthetic around, rolling his wrist. “I’m hard to break.” 

Keith doesn’t laugh with Shiro. Instead, he reaches out an fixes Shiro’s hat for him, muttering apologies and swearing to murder his dog for Shiro. 

Black watches this all, far too dignified to run after the two dogs who are now currently looping around the street and the grassy knoll next to it. Usually they save all that for the dog park— Kosmo and Atlas are the only big dogs around and tend to only get tired out by playing with each other. Most other owners in the dog park have their dogs avoid Kosmo and Atlas for that very reason— massive dogs tend to make everyone nervous, no matter how sweet they might be.

Not that Kosmo is being very sweet right now. Finally, Kosmo returns to Keith’s side, tongue lulling just as Shiro offers his hands and helps pull Keith back onto his feet. 

_You’re welcome!_ Kosmo says. 

“Atlas,” Shiro says, voice firm and commanding, “Sit.” 

She does, immediately, tail swiping over the pavement as she obediently waits for Shiro to fetch her leash. Atlas is exceptionally well-trained because Shiro is dedicated and commanding when he needs to be, Keith thinks. That, and Keith’s heard Atlas telling Kosmo that Shiro just makes her feel really happy to do everything right, so she always wants to do well and be applauded.

Keith hates that he can relate to a dog when it comes to loving praise from Shiro. 

“Are you okay?” Shiro asks him, big grey eyes concerned and pinned only on Keith. His hands linger on Keith’s arms, keeping him steady as if Keith’s the type of person to swoon and spontaneously fall while standing upright. 

Keith feels himself blush. He doesn’t want Shiro to let go of him. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” 

Kosmo noses at his hip and Keith turns his head away from Shiro to glare down at his dog. 

“What the fuck?” he tells Kosmo again. 

It makes Shiro laugh. “Case of the zoomies, maybe?” 

“More like case of the ‘no new treats for a month,’” Keith promises darkly, staring into Kosmo’s eyes. The innocent look isn’t going to fool him. 

Kosmo gives a pathetic whine. But he also knows that there’s no use complaining to Keith. He turns his attention to Shiro instead, pressing his face against Shiro’s thigh.

Shiro coos sweetly and pets him, casting an apologetic glance at Keith as he does so. 

Once they’ve all gotten untangled and righted, they continue their walk. Keith’s hip smarts from landing on it but otherwise the rest of the walk to the dog park goes without incident. It’s early and cold enough that there’s no one else there as Keith unlatches the opening gate. 

They close the fence off and unhook their dogs. Atlas and Kosmo immediately start tearing across the area, yipping and barking happily. Keith sighs, stepping onto the picnic bench, sitting on the table itself, feet planted on the bench. He pats the spot next to him until Shiro climbs up to sit beside him with a chuckle. 

Black, still on her leash, darts beneath the picnic bench to nose around the taller grass. 

They sit in silence, watching their dogs wear themselves out, play-fighting and rolling around in the dirt. 

“Any plans for the holiday?” Shiro asks him after the silence has lapsed into something pleasant and serene. He pulls his eyes away from Atlas to smile at Keith. 

Keith shakes his head. “Nah. Not really.”

“Guess that explains why you’re around,” Shiro agrees. “I half-expected to be walking Atlas and Black all by myself this week.” 

“I was going to fly home to visit my parents, but tickets are so fucking expensive.”

“Oh yeah,” Shiro says. “My family celebrates early just so we can all save money on our flights.” 

“Smart,” Keith says absently. 

“Are you by yourself then?” 

Keith shrugs. “We’re not huge on the holidays, anyway. I’ll video-chat with my parents on the day of, but it’s not a huge deal.” 

Silence hangs between them and Keith flounders, unsure how he’s supposed to talk about anything. It’s not quite small talk with Shiro— it never is, never feels so tedious with Shiro— but Keith’s spent his entire life talking with his family pets and his parents and that’s about it. 

Shiro waits, something expectant in his eyes. But Keith isn’t sure what to say. 

Shiro eventually takes pity on him, picking off a loose thread from his jeans and then saying, with quiet casualness, “So… I guess we’re both around this week?” 

“Guess so?” Keith asks and nearly flinches at how stupid he sounds. 

“We should do something,” Shiro offers. “If you wanted.” 

The words settle and Keith realizes what Shiro’s been getting at. He feels himself start to blush all over again, fumbling. He shoves his hands into his pockets, clenching them into fists and trying for a similar calm. 

“I… Yeah. Yeah. Like what?” 

“Watch some crappy Christmas movies together, maybe? Drink hot cocoa?” Shiro asks and shrugs. “Ice skating?” 

“It’s cold enough for that,” Keith agrees. He looks up at the sky, lightened enough now that he can make out all the thick layers of clouds. “Think it’ll snow?” 

“Maybe,” Shiro says. “It didn’t last year, but…”

“I’ve never seen snow,” Keith admits. 

Shiro gives him a bewildered look. “Really?”

Keith shrugs. “We didn’t really get it where I come from and we didn’t travel a lot. My mom was really excited when I moved up here and she learned I might get to see some… one of the few things she likes about me moving away, I think.”

Shiro chuckles. “Well. Fingers crossed you get some snow, then. We can build a snowman together.” 

“Ha,” Keith breathes, watching Kosmo climb up on one of the obstacle structures built for training dogs. He trots along the padded beam and Atlas follows along on the ground, barking happily up at him. 

“Our kids are having fun,” Shiro teases, following Keith’s gaze. 

Keith snorts. “Don’t call them that. They’ll take it as an excuse to throw tantrums for more treats.” 

Indeed, at the mention of treats, Black hops up on the picnic table. She settles in Shiro’s lap but stares down at Keith, asking him if he has any of these fabled treats for her. Keith shrugs apologetically and she flicks her tail with a disdainful sigh before curling up on Shiro’s lap, kneading her paws and pressing her face into his belly. She starts purring when Shiro starts petting her.

Keith really shouldn’t be jealous of a cat. 

Shiro runs his hand absently over Black’s body, stroking down her fur and rubbing his thumb along her cheek. She purrs loudly, nuzzling into his hand. Shiro murmurs soft praise to her, his eyes on Atlas as she gallops through the grass, nipping at Kosmo’s heels. 

“I don’t have work today,” Keith says. 

Shiro swivels his head back around towards him. Keith tells himself not to overthink it, but Shiro definitely looks hopeful. 

“Yeah?” 

“If you wanted to watch a Christmas movie today,” Keith offers. “Um. No pressure. I don’t know what your schedule’s like.”

Shiro grins though, looking delighted. “I don’t have work today, either. Want to come over now? I could make us breakfast and we can make a day of it.” 

Keith casts a glance down at his fleecy pants, blushing. 

Shiro laughs as he follows Keith’s gaze. “If we go back to my place, I’ll put on pajamas, too. I have a fireplace. We can make it all cozy.”

He seems so enthusiastic about it that Keith really can’t say no. If he was blushing before, it’s nothing like now envisioning cuddling up with Shiro, both of them wearing pajamas, and just spending the day together. It sounds like the world’s laziest, best date— and Keith carefully reminds himself that Shiro is just a friend. Keith zips up his jacket all the way up and buries the bottom half of his face in it, hoping that might stave off the unbearable blush or at least make it less obvious. 

This crush is really getting out of hand. Shiro is being friendly. Because they’re friends. 

After the dogs run themselves out, Keith and Shiro take the familiar route back home. Shiro promises Keith hot cocoa and coffee, and breakfast foods, a warm fire, and a Netflix account full of shitty movies just waiting to be watched. 

-

“Make yourself at home,” Shiro says as he unhooks both Atlas and Black from their leashes, wiping down their paws with a towel to clear away the morning frost, then moves further into his house. “I’m going to grab some firewood from my pile out back and then I’ll make you the best breakfast you’ve ever had.” 

Keith unclips Kosmo from his leash and leaves it coiled up by the door alongside their boots. Kosmo gives Keith an entirely smug look— as if it’s somehow Kosmo’s doing that Keith’s stepping inside Shiro’s house or like this means anything salacious— and then trots in after Atlas. 

“The best, huh?” Keith asks, watching Shiro carry his boots through the house so he can slip them back on at the back door to his firewood pile. 

Rather than make himself at home, Keith just follows Shiro and lingers in the back doorway, watching Shiro pile logs into his arms. Even with his bulky sweater on, Keith can appreciate the thought of his bulging biceps. It’s only a few short feet to Shiro’s backdoor from the firewood pile, hardly a long way to carry logs, but Keith still feels a little flushed and impressed by his prowess.

Fuck. This crush. 

Half an hour later sees Shiro and Keith with a hearty fire crackling in the fireplace and some eggs sizzling away on the stove. Shiro makes a modest breakfast— toast, eggs, and potatoes— but it still smells delicious. He brews coffee with a promise for cocoa later— but Keith’s grateful for the caffeine boost in the meantime. 

Once they sit on the couch in front of the television, Keith lets himself properly look around Shiro’s house. It’s a decent size, a one-story with the nice porch Keith imagines he sits on for hours in the summer. The main room’s cozy, a decent size but made snug with Shiro’s furniture— a big couch and a few armchairs. One is absolutely covered in fur, betraying where Black spends most of her time. 

Beyond the main room is the kitchen and the bedroom at the back of the house, although Shiro’s bedroom door is closed so Keith can’t peek inside. Overall, it looks lived-in and comfortable. Certainly a little more homey than Keith’s relatively bare one-story two doors down that he shares with his roommate, Hunk. 

_I want eggs,_ Kosmo tells him, eyes big and begging as Keith munches on the meal Shiro prepared for him. _You should thank me for this!_

“Fuck off,” Keith answers, “you’re not getting any eggs.” What he really wants to say is, _I can’t believe you’ve been trying to wingman me with Shiro for weeks now can you please kindly leave me alone with my stupid crush?_

Shiro snorts a laugh around his sip of coffee, his smile undisguised where it curls around the lip of the mug. 

“What?” Keith asks. 

“Nothing,” Shiro laughs. “Just… the way you talk to Kosmo is so much like how you talk to people, I guess.” 

“Wh…” 

“I mean,” Shiro elaborates. “No baby voice or condescension. You talk to him like he’s a person. Like he can really understand you.” 

Keith blushes and takes a huge gulp of his coffee. He doesn’t know what possesses Keith to say it, watching as Shiro east some eggs and fishes up the controller. 

Keith decides to test it. “I can talk to my dog.” 

Shiro laughs again, opening Netflix on his television. “Oh yeah, me too.” To demonstrate, he turns his head and coos at Atlas, who’s currently curled up by the fire, absorbing some heat. “Who’s a good girl?”

Atlas perks up, tail wagging. _Me!_ she says, loud and clear, tongue lulling. _I am!_

“Yes, you!” Shiro agrees. Atlas yips happily and hurries over to Shiro, graciously accepting the pets Shiro gives her, scrubbing his hands through her fur and planting a big kiss on top of her head. Her tail hits a rapid beat against the coffee table. 

Keith could let that go— and allow himself to just utterly melt at the image of Shiro whispering his love to his dog— but there’s something about Shiro that always makes Keith want to share. That makes Keith want to be honest. His mom and dad know about his whole talk-to-animals thing, but he can’t recall ever sharing it with anybody else. 

But Shiro is Shiro. 

“No. I mean. I can _talk_ to my dog,” Keith says. “All animals, really, if they feel like talking. I’m an animal empath, I guess?” 

“Like Dr. Dolittle?” Shiro asks. He smooshes Atlas’ face up and kisses her nose before he turns his head to peer at Keith. 

Keith wrinkles his nose. “I guess.” 

He holds his breath, waiting for Shiro to dismiss him, to not believe him, to think Keith’s joking. Or, worse, to realize Keith’s serious and freak out or think Keith’s strange. To stop being his friend. Maybe he’s being an idiot here— divulging something private like this just because it’s the first time he’s been inside a friend’s house, listening to a crackling fire, surrounded by cute animals, and about to watch a movie with an unfairly attractive man. 

Shiro does nothing that Keith fears, though. Instead he considers, mulling over the words, and then tilts his head. “Okay… can you ask Black why she’ll play fetch with the green ball but not the blue one?” 

Keith glances at Black, lounging on her chair. She has a little foam ball in her mouth, tail flicking, just waiting for someone to come over and take it from her. Keith knows that Maine Coons can play fetch, but somehow it feels too undignified for someone as stately as Black. Hell, Keith still can’t get Kosmo to actually play fetch, period, regardless of colored ball. 

Keith regards Black, lifting his eyebrows. She drops the foam ball and licks her paw. 

Keith turns his attention back to Shiro. “She says because that’s just how it is.” 

Shiro sighs. “I guess I already knew that about her.” He perks up though, tilting his head further— and the gesture feels so puppy-like, too, that Keith’s heart gives a stupid little thump. “That’s really amazing, Keith.” 

Keith waits, anticipating something else— a follow-up, a joke, a tease, anything. But it doesn’t come. Shiro picks up his mug and takes a sip. He beams at Keith like Keith really is just that impressive. 

“I feel like I should be more suspicious of how easily you accepted that,” Keith hedges. 

Shiro shrugs. “My dad’s always been able to talk to flowers.” 

“Really?” Keith asks. He can’t even imagine what plants can have to say. 

“Yeah,” Shiro answers. “Roses are apparently assholes, by the way.” It makes Keith laugh, something easing in his chest. Shiro hums softly. “I guess this explains why you hate people.” 

“It’s not that I hate all of them,” Keith protests, when he really means _I don’t hate you_. “I just… they’re harder to talk to. And more difficult to read. At least with animals, they don’t lie.” He pauses, then adds as a joke, “Except squirrels. Bunch of lying dicks.” 

Shiro barks a laugh, startling Black. She gives them both a scathing look. 

“Humans are animals,” Shiro says. He grins. “But I guess you know that already.” 

“Yeah, hi, I can talk to humans, too,” Keith answers, deadpan, and it makes Shiro laugh harder. 

“Still want to watch a movie?” Shiro asks. 

“Yeah,” Keith whispers. “Yeah, sure, Shiro.” 

-

Halfway through the movie, Shiro drops his arm behind the back of the couch, lounging. The movement, of course, puts that arm directly behind Keith’s shoulders. They aren’t touching. They aren’t even that close. But Keith’s aware of the arm’s presence and how easily he could scoot closer to Shiro if he wanted. He could cuddle up to him, feigning cold despite the cozy heat from the fire and the many blankets Shiro’s piled on him.

Their breakfast plates are empty on the coffee table, mugs long empty. On screen, the blonde protagonist who left the big city to return to a small hometown for the winter season is still in the middle of learning the True Lesson of Christmas, by way of interacting with the hunky hunk love interest. 

Keith’s lost track of the movie’s main plotline, although it’s not impossible to follow considering its simplicity. All Keith knows is that _Shiro_ draws his focus more. Not just the arm, glinting a little in the morning light, all gunmetal and polymer alloy, but the way his hair sweeps sweetly across his forehead, his kind eyes. His damnably kissable lips. 

Kosmo huffs, as if sensing Keith’s thoughts. He’s currently lounging by the fire, curled up with Atlas. 

_This is because of me!_ he calls out, having noticed where Keith keeps staring. Keith bites on the inside of his cheek because he flat-out refuses to argue with his dog in front of Shiro. 

Secretly, Keith’s heart feels all full and happy, watching their dogs all curled up together by the fire. It’s all a nice thought: the dogs sleeping. Shiro and Keith curled up on the couch, watching a movie together. Their cat dozing in her chair. Almost like a perfect day, like they all live here together. 

He is definitely getting ahead of himself. 

Keith coughs, blushing, and leans forward to pick up his coffee cup. There’s one little drop at the very bottom and he flings his head back to gulp it down. 

“Want more?” Shiro asks him as Keith settles back against the couch’s back. “I think I might want more.” 

Shiro shifts, moving closer to Keith. His hand moves off the couch, touching Keith’s shoulder in the softest ghost of a touch, like he might draw Keith in closer to him. Like they really will start cuddling. 

“Oh,” Keith says. “Sure. I can get it, though. Let me make it for you.” 

He stands before Shiro can protest, fetching the mugs and retreating. He knows how to work a coffee maker and watched Shiro do it earlier, besides. There’s still some coffee grounds in the hand-grinder— because of course Shiro’s the type to hand-grind— and he hovers by the machine just to make sure it’s really percolating. 

Shiro wanders into the room after him anyway, leaning his hip against the counter. He smiles at Keith, nodding back towards the main room. “I paused it.” 

“Oh, good. Don’t want to miss any of the thrilling action,” Keith teases, and grins up at Shiro. 

“Hey, Keith, I—” Shiro begins but cuts off with a small gasp as he lurches forward, suddenly knocked off balance. Keith only just manages to catch him, stumbling backwards as Shiro stumbles in his arms. 

The culprits make their presence known: Kosmo yips happily, tail thumping the ground as he and Atlas crowd against Shiro to keep him from standing upright. It must look ridiculous, the four of them crowded against the counter in Shiro’s kitchen. 

“Seriously?” Keith tells Kosmo, glaring over Shiro’s shoulder. “Now you’re corrupting Atlas into your stupid plot?” 

Kosmo barks. Atlas pants happily, tongue lulling. 

“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” Keith cries as the dogs go in for the attack again and send the two humans sprawling to the floor. At least Keith doesn’t land on his hip this time, the dogs’ attack more a slow onslaught that leaves Keith sinking to the ground and onto his knees, holding Shiro close. 

Kosmo’s tail wags, his expression smug and triumphant.

“This isn’t a good look for you,” Keith snaps. “You’re making me look bad.” 

Keith glares at both Kosmo _and_ Atlas. Then he helps pull Shiro to his feet, hands lingering on his shoulders, making sure he’s steady before letting go. He shoos the dogs back with his foot, unafraid to push against Kosmo’s chest until his betraying dog backs off. 

“Sorry,” Keith tells Shiro. 

“Does Kosmo hate me or something?” Shiro asks, laughing. 

Keith shakes his head, glaring down at his dog. “He’s being an asshole.” 

“Atlas,” Shiro scolds. “Go lie down.” 

He points and Atlas’ head dips pathetically. She retreats immediately, though, seeking her time-out corner Shiro’s trained her to find whenever she misbehaves. Keith can hear her pathetic _But I just wanted to help, too…_ as she slinks away. 

Keith sighs. “Glad we weren’t holding any of the coffee.” He points another hefty glare at Kosmo. “And I’m not above letting you just sleep on the back porch while we all get to enjoy the fire, you know.” 

Kosmo licks Keith’s hand and runs back into the main room, as if that’d stop Keith from hauling his dog and throwing him outside without a care in the world. He’s stronger than he looks. Kosmo might be the size of a small horse at this point, but Keith is flexible and stubborn and also completely embarrassed. 

“Why does he keep doing that?” Shiro asks. “He’s always seemed so well behaved.” He pales then, adding on desperately, “Not that I think you aren’t training him! I know how hard you work with him—” 

“It’s fine,” Keith cuts in. “He _is_ being a dick.” 

“Why?” 

“He… he has this mission, I guess,” Keith hedges. “He thinks he’s helping.” 

“Helping with what?” Shiro asks, frowning. 

“Nevermind. It’s not important. Um.” 

Keith leaves Shiro to puzzle over that, unable to look him in the eye as he seizes up the full coffee pot, pours them liberal amounts in their mugs, and flees back into the main room. 

The movie’s paused mid-kiss. Keith blushes as he settles back in his spot, setting down their cups. He situates his blanket again and manages to look settled by the time Shiro trails after him. 

Shiro drops down into his spot beside Keith. They’re closer now, though. Thigh-to-thigh. 

Keith picks up his coffee cup and takes a sip. Shiro parrots him, picking up his mug and taking a long drink. When he sets the cup back down again and leans back with a sigh, he slings his arm over the back of the couch, his fingertips definitely brushing across Keith’s shoulder now. 

Keith accepts it. He takes a breath and leaves his thigh pressed to Shiro’s. He leans back and gets comfortable, tucked into Shiro’s side. 

Keith nearly startles out of his skin when Black leaps up onto the couch and into Keith’s lap. She stares deep into his eyes and then curls up in his lap, flopping. 

“Ha,” Shiro laughs, eyes fond. “Wow.”

“What?” Keith asks. 

“She hardly ever does that with other people,” Shiro admits. “She must like you.” 

“Always a good sign when a cat likes someone,” Keith demurs. Black starts purring, kneading into Keith’s thighs and tail flipping to and fro. 

Shiro forgets to unpause the movie, too busy watching Black make herself comfortable in Keith’s lap. Black finishes kneading into Keith’s lap and curls up, purring up a storm. Somehow she still manages to make it all look dignified. 

Keith starts petting her. Beside him, Shiro says, “Oh, be sure not to—” 

“Pet her tail, I know,” Keith says. 

“Oh.” Shiro pauses, then laughs. “She already told you, huh?”

Keith blushes, glancing up at Shiro, searching for any sign he’s teasing or doesn’t believe that Keith did, indeed, hear it from Black before she settled comfortably into his lap. But Shiro looks perfectly earnest, sweet and wondering, his ears and cheeks pink. 

“… Yeah.” 

Shiro smiles. “Amazing.” 

Finally, after Shiro seems to get his fill of watching Keith pet his cat, he finally unpauses the movie. 

-

“Want to watch another?” Shiro asks once the credits roll. 

“Sure,” Keith agrees. “We might need more firewood for the fire, though.” 

Shiro nods and stands. Keith gently deposits Black from his lap so he can get up to help. 

“Oh,” Keith whispers when the back door opens. “It’s snowing.” 

It’s barely a whisper of it, but that’s what the fluffy white flakes must be— it’s not sticking yet, but still Keith feels his heart leap. He wishes he had his phone to take a picture and send his mom.

He gives a startled laugh, turning his head to beam at Shiro. 

Shiro’s not watching the snow, though. He’s smiling fondly at Keith instead. 

Keith startles when he feels something slinking between his legs. When he glances down, Black is swishing back and forth, her tail flicking along Keith’s legs. She purrs when Keith looks at her and nudges. She’s far more gentle and subtle than Kosmo and Atlas, but the sentiment is clear. She’s trying to push him closer. 

_Go,_ she invites. 

Before Keith can gently shoo the cat away, Kosmo and Atlas are on the scene, too. Atlas barks happily and slinks around Shiro’s legs, pushing at the backs of his legs to inch Shiro forward. Kosmo does the same for Keith.

The two of them stumble forward towards one another. Keith’s hands plant on Shiro’s chest. 

“Oh,” Shiro says, finally seeming to _get_ what the animals have been doing all day. It’s absolutely mortifying. 

Kosmo gives Keith another harsh shove with his head. Keith’s hands press against Shiro’s chest, trying to steady himself and not tip completely into Shiro’s arms. 

But Shiro’s quick to grab at his hips instead, firm and steady and far too distracting.

_Tell him!_ Kosmo says, whining low. He and Atlas press against their owners’ legs, refusing to budge and let them move.

Keith’s nearly chest-to-chest with Shiro. He blinks and looks up at him, the snow falling around them. He swallows. 

Shiro is silent, staring down at Keith. It’s strange to watch a blush bloom on his cheeks, but Keith watches it happen, watches Shiro’s face turn bright red. 

“Our animals are playing matchmaker, aren’t they?” Shiro finally asks, voice quiet and a little wobbly. 

_Tell him!_ Kosmo says again, barking happily, tail wagging. 

_It’ll be good,_ Black informs him before slinking away. _You should hear how he talks about you._

_Puppy eyes,_ Atlas agrees. 

Keith blushes. Shiro’s giving him a puzzled look. “Are you— are they talking to you?”

“Yeah,” Keith squeaks. 

“What are they saying?” Shiro asks, genuinely interested.

Keith sighs. He looks up at Shiro, studying his soft grey eyes, his gentle smile. How every day, he’ll walk his dog and cat with Keith, without fail. How he always seems to always be there, right on time, whenever Keith needs to take Kosmo for a walk. How sometimes, in the afternoon, he’ll have an extra cup of tea to offer Keith as they walk. 

He watches Shiro’s face, the tentative hope flickering in Shiro’s expression. The way he glances at Keith’s mouth, then lurches his eyes away. But the look is clear. Keith takes a breath.

Keith lurches up and kisses Shiro. 

And Shiro kisses him back. 

Shiro makes a sound and then loops his arms around Keith’s waist and tugs him in closer, as if their dogs haven’t already done their best to make the space between them nonexistent. 

It’s so much better like this. Keith shivers, hands traveling up Shiro’s chest and hooking around he back of his neck. He kisses him slow and sweet, wanting to keep it simple. But then Shiro licks his bottom lip and it makes Keith gasp, and then they’re doing anything but kiss innocently. 

It’s almost filthy, the way Shiro makes a sound and kisses him like he’s trying to rob Keith of breath. He bites at Keith’s lip and then sweeps in close. And Keith is there to meet him, deepening the kiss with a soft sigh, his tongue licking into Shiro’s mouth. 

When they break away to breathe, Keith blushes, blinking up at Shiro. 

He glances down to see Kosmo and Atlas looking overly smug— and then retreating, following Black’s example. It leaves the two humans alone near the back door, the winter chill coming in and the snow flurrying through the air. 

“Do you always kiss guys like that on a first kiss?” Keith whispers. 

“Are you calling me a dog, Keith?” Shiro teases. 

Keith laughs, delirious, and drags Shiro down for another kiss. “Hell no.” 

He’s glad the animals have made themselves scarce. There’s nothing more embarrassing than kissing a hot dude in front of your dog, after all. He already knows Kosmo is going to be smug every single time he sees Shiro and Keith together.

But Keith doesn’t really care, sighing out Shiro’s name and tugging him down closer.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject) (including the [LLF Comment Builder](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/commentbuilder)), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates responses, including:
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